


Noise of War

by phandomghostwriter



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Depression, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Fluff, Guns, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Interrogation, M/M, Night Terrors, No actual major character death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Restraints, Smut, War, visions of major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomghostwriter/pseuds/phandomghostwriter
Summary: He could tell his voice was off. The way it faltered on the end of each sentence as he spoke with downturned lips and without a smile behind his eyes. His words were slow like smoke trailing off the end of a cigarette. He was not Phil. Phil was long gone packed away with his old life and his old memories.





	1. War

**Author's Note:**

> I do not claim to have a knowledge of what it is like to be a soldier, in a war zone, of the British Royal Military, or a perfect knowledge of PTSD. I also have very limited knowledge of contracted workers through the military. I do not give the name or location of where Phil is because it does not depict an actual place. I do not cast aspiration on Dan and Phil. 
> 
> I am trying my absolute best to not offend anyone and to portray something as accurately as possible, and I want to say if you are someone who has come here to read this silly little fan fiction and are a veteran of any kind thank you for your service.

He could tell his voice was off. The way it faltered on the end of each sentence as he spoke with downturned lips and without a smile behind his eyes. His words were slow like smoke trailing off the end of a cigarette. He was not Phil. Phil was long gone packed away with his old life and his old memories.  
The past few months had Left him a shell where smiles never reached his eyes, his boot laces were too tight and blankets never left him warm enough. Things snapped in his body when he woke up in the morning like trees in the winter held down by falling snow.   Something always hurt whether it be an ankle, or his shoulders, or his hands which had become calloused and cracked and held dirt in them that never seemed to come clean. He didn’t feel like him. His hair was gone exposing more of his features than he’d ever felt comfortable with. The wrinkles in his skin had become apparent, whispers of a story he never wanted to retell, not yet defined and planted, but hinted at. 

 

***

He could see the small crowd that had gathered at the bottom of the escalator. He couldn’t help but smile and hold back the feeling of wanting to kiss the dirty airport’s tile floor. He was back on English soil. 

It wasn’t hard to see Dan tucked away in the back. His tall frame was terrible at hiding. He looked thinner and paler. He must have stayed inside more than he had led on. His hair was freshly cut. Something in Phil envied the way it looked. It was so nice and styled and personal, shaved sides leading into beautiful brown curls. He was wearing a shirt Phil had never seen before which somehow made him sad. What else had he missed?  

Eventually he made his way to his eyes and once they had connected they couldn’t disconnect. There was a hesitant smile written on Dan’s face, one to match Phil’s. He couldn’t help but think about how beautiful Dan looked.

It immediately made him feel self conscious. What if he was awkward, or not as funny, or looked old. It had been 8 months. Surely he couldn't have changed as much as he felt he had, but the small grainy connection they had over the video web cam hid a lot. His hair for the first time in the ten years they had known each other was his natural color. Dan had just about begged him to grow his natural color multiple times, ‘ well here you go,’ he thought, ‘This one’s for you.’ 

***

Phil was a linguist. While in university he wanted to challenge himself and decided to learn more about dead languages. He wanted to learn about their structures and wanted to help keep them alive. He never thought his doctoral thesis would land him in the middle of a war. 

He was the only English man; truly, the only European who could speak the language. So they sent him out. A man who nearly fell into his potted cactus was being contracted by the English Government and sent into the heart of a war zone. 

It wasn’t all bad moments. There were some beautiful moments. Moments he wouldn’t forget that made the time away from his family, made the poor living conditions, and made getting sick worth it. He, Philip Michael Lester had just survived the most intimidating 8 months of his life.

One of those moments was the time when he spoke to a teenage girl for hours about her family and a boy she liked.  He felt like he was in high school again, talking to a girl about her boy problems. He sat in the dirt and slowly she approached him. It took her over half an hour to finally make it all the way over and Phil knew he would have quite the sun burn but it was worth it. What really got her was when he started to sing, albeit pretty terribly. He heard her start laughing at him but he kept singing louder and louder, more and more obnoxious. And then the amazing happened, she began singing along. And then she sat down next to him. A 31 year old man and 16 year old girl sat in the middle of the dirt crosslegged and singing in a language few knew around them. He looked over and they made eye contact for mere seconds, but it was long enough to see hazel eyes stare back at him and remind him of another pair of hazel eyes. 

This moment was why he had learned the language in the first place, to bridge a gap between himself and others, not to relay intelligence, not to find the bad guy, or fight a war. Phil was docile, and for the most part a mix of both incredibly shy and wonderfully friendly.

He did however try his best to provide the best support for her in her dilemma. here in a far off country very different from his own, and in a language not his own, he gave the same advice he gave to his friends in high school. Phil tried to find the similarities and not the differences in those he was appointed to speak with. though, when she began speaking of her family Phil could do little to compare his upbringing to hers.

She spoke of some things phil could in fact connect to. The shops she would visit with her mum and dad, and the paper games she would play with her class mates. She spoke of family dinners, and helping to take care of her younger brother. She talked about catching bugs and pretending to be different animals, and playing football. She also told a delightful story of when her mom let her wear lipgloss for the first time. 

She also spoke of war. She spoke of losing that same younger brother to a chemical bomb. She spoke about her city that was once a sprawled out populace, and was now just abandoned, piled rubble. She talked about the lack of food, lack of shelter, lack of friends, friends who had all moved, or as her dad had put it, defected. She spoke of a world Phil had only been in at the time for 4 months. 

She spoke of the noises. Noises he had began getting used to, but that you never really got used to. Loud bangs, and guns, and sirens. Sirens that led nowhere. In London he always heard sirens. He would complain about them. He would wish them away when they where on his street at 3 in the morning waking him or Dan up. He wished the sirens away here as well, but the difference between here and London, was that at least he knew in London, the sirens were going somewhere. He knew they were helping. Here he knew nothing was helping. Not the sirens, not the guns, not the bombs, not the soldiers, and definitely not him. 

He felt she should have been crying. He wanted to. He would have, but bit his cheek and dug his nails into his palms and willed himself not to cry at her stories, because she was strong enough to live through them and not cry, and he should be strong enough to listen. She ended their conversation by asking him to sing one last song with her. It wasn’t a funny song this time. He didn’t pull his voice in a way that made her laugh, loud and obnoxious. No, this was a song of mourning. This was a song sang for the dead since the 800’s. He sang it with her, sad and slow and with no tears in his eyes, because he owed this brave girl who he could give absolutely nothing to, that much. 

***

He and Dan had never really gone over what they were going to do when they saw each other. Phil thought when he first left that he would want to run to Dan. He thought he would want to kiss him until there was no air left in either of their lungs.

Now that the time was here however, he felt only a strong pull to hug Dan, and more importantly he wanted, no he absolutely needed Dan to hug him. 

On the plane ride Phil was nervous his lips would be chapped or his skin would be rough. He thought about his hair now short and a color similar to Dan’s. His hair however, lacked the same warmth as Dan’s and now showed the smallest hint of grey. Everything about him felt like it lacked the same warmth as Dan. He was also very thin. This was not because the English Government was not feeding him. They had done their best to take care of the men and women over there, but Phil had gotten sick 7 months into his 8 month contract. 

The doctors told him it was stress. He couldn’t eat without feeling ill. His portions of food had decreased dramatically and he decided to simply work harder. The busier he was the less he focused on the fact that he wasn’t able to eat or sleep. He took extra shifts. He collected more documents to transcribe, spoke to more of the dangerous people that he had actually been sent there to speak to, and finally began relaying intelligence to his bosses. He even once kept watch outside of their camp for another soldier, something not in his contract but something the Lieutenant Colonel had allowed. He stood outside of their housing with an SA80 strapped to his front and thick rimmed glasses pressed firmly to his face. 

He spent the whole night silent thinking of Dan. That’s all he thought of when he got like this. He thought of his eyes, and his smell, and his laugh, and the curve of his lips. He thought of the day they first met, their first kiss, the first time he said I love you, the day he left. The last time he saw Dan he was brimming with tears looking hurt that Phil was leaving him. He both understood and did not understand why Phil would leave him to do this, but he supported him the whole way through. All the way up until the moment Phil was leaving and his face could not lie anymore. Phil saw straight through him and the tears, tears that said ‘why?’ and ‘please don’t go.’ Something in Phil that at the time even Phil was unsure of knew he needed to go though, and so he turned around after a final kiss to Dan’s forehead and walked away, and that was what played in his mind on repeat while he stood there arms and legs and back tired and aching with an assault rifle strapped to his front in the middle of fucking nowhere looking at the same moon that would eventually make it’s way over to Dan. And now here was Dan stood right in front of him again.


	2. Krieg

Dan had started these 8 months in bed. He tried. Tried to support Phil’s choice in going over seas and leaving him alone for 8 months. They had spent no more than 2 weeks apart in the past 9 years. They had become a unit, become one, and everything they did, they did together. 

That was why over time Phil’s choice to leave, which he said was because of his ‘duty to his country’ started to twist itself in Dan’s mind into a reason for Phil to simply get away from Dan. Dan knew he was loved by Phil, but he also knew he could be difficult on occasion, and Dan’s self criticism only amplified. Everything he did in the month before Phil had left was scrutinized in a part of Dan’s own mind. He made sure everything was perfect. He kept the house spotless. He made sure to leave things in the cupboard he knew phil liked to eat. He made meals he had never made before, spent hours looking up new recipes, new organizational tips, workout plans, he even began laying out in the sun in the morning before Phil would wake up so he would subtly begin to tan knowing this was something Phil liked about him, and then slid back in bed and acted as if he was still asleep. He did anything he could to make it as appealing as possible for Phil to stay. 

He knew as he did all of this that Phil would not stay. He knew it was selfish to ask him to, not only because he had wanted to go, but because Her Majesties fucking military had asked this of Phil. He couldn’t say what he wanted to. So instead he spoke through actions that he knew would lead to absolutely nothing. And as Phil let go of his wrist in the airport and kissed him one last time on the forehead he stood there tears in his eyes, hoping they would say exactly what he couldn’t, and still Phil walked away, because he had to.

When he returned home that day he shut the door to their flat and locked it. He felt the weight of Phil’s personal cell phone in his back pocket, there was now no way for them to communicate. Dan kept his eyes trained on the floor. He knew their home was littered with memories and photos, and things he didn’t want to see right now. He slowly made his way up the stairs to the bathroom and used it. Then as he went to wash his hands that’s when he saw it. Phil had left his contact lens pot in-between the two taps. He was always leaving his bleeding lens pot on the tap. And that was when the flood gates opened. The tears began and they didn’t stop. 

He washed his hands blearily and walked into their room almost tripping over himself and he stripped out of his clothes throwing them on the floor. He wanted them to make noise. He heard his belt make a smacking sound against the linoleum which was just not enough. He ripped his jeans off and his jacket, and his shirt. He hadn’t stripped this fast even in the haste of sex, and there he was stood in just his pants sobbing an audible noise escaping his lips like a wounded animal. 

He looked at their bed. Their freshly made bed. The same bed Dan had taken extra care to tuck the sheets into that morning. The same bed he rode Phil on the night before passionate and lustful and hoping that maybe just maybe if nothing else, his body could get Phil to stay. He grabbed the duvet and pulled desperately at it. He threw Phil’s pillow across the room. And then he just began punching the mattress. A slew of “Fucking shit fuck,” and then just a repeated question over and over “Why?” 

When he finally got it all out, he walked over to where he had thrown Phil’s pillow, tears still falling from his eyes and picked it up, crawling into bed holding it close to his face hoping that the smell would stick for the next 8 months. 

***

He stayed in that bed for about two weeks. He canceled appointments, stopped any contact with family or friends, was a ghost on social media, and had utterly let himself go. 

He knew that he was going to have to eventually get out of that bed and realize that phil hadn’t died, and so 13 days later he got up, threw the sheets in the wash (excluding phil’s pillow case), took a shower, brushed his teeth, did his hair, made breakfast, and left the flat headed to Starbucks to meet with his client. Phil's phone now sat on his night stand charging, and his lens pot still sat on the tap.

***

He shifted nervously. What was he supposed to do. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to run up that escalator and meet Phil but he stayed where he was behind the small crowd of wives, children, and parents. There were women with signs, and balloons, and newborn babies. Kids were scrambling on the floor and jumping excitedly. There were some who already had tears and others chatting as if old friends, and a whole manner of distractions were taking place. And then there was Dan. He stood taller than all the rest and stuck out in a button up black shirt with tiny gold and red flowers on it over black ripped jeans. He looked smart, and quite a lot different from everyone else in the small section they designated as their waiting area. He was without a doubt the only man waiting there for another man, and he couldn't help but feel like he needed to hide or adjust to the environment around him.

Thankfully the Heathrow airport was a twenty minute car ride from their flat. It was still agonizingly slow and nerve racking. He was both excited and extremely nervous. This was not a normal separation for them. They had their holidays apart but they were spent texting and calling and face timing each other. This was the longest they had been apart since they day they had met, and it was spent with sometimes days of no communication and a very grainy and poorly connected webcam. This was not to mention most of what Phil was doing he could not discuss with Dan, the person he told everything to, and Dan didn’t want to worry Phil over how much he was worrying over Phil. It left them in quite the predicament where they found out how to live separate lives. They both missed each other incredibly but were required to function separately, and it was the first time in Dan’s adult life that he found himself living independently of his boyfriend.

Dan wanted to look good, it had been 8 months after all, so he made sure to get his affairs in order the week leading up to Phil’s arrival. He left the flat more in that one week than he felt he had in the entire 8 months. He first went to the shops and bought scented candles, and a few new potted plants. He had neglected a few of Phil’s in his absence and knew they would need replacing. He found himself wanting to get them new bed sheets. It was a weird nesting feeling. He wanted everything to be fresh, but he decided against it since he didn’t want to pick out something the other may not like. He purchased all of Phil’s favorite foods, food he knew Phil hadn't had and had specifically requested, and some things that were a surprise like flavored popcorn, and a few chocolate pastries, and a good bottle of wine. He also thought to purchase a new bottle of lube and a pack of scented massage oils. In the end he felt pretty satisfied with all of his purchases.

He then went for a bit of personal maintenance. He had let his hair grow just a bit too long, so he went and got it freshly cut, purchasing the products he needed to style it again. He also decided to get a new outfit, finding a black button up shirt from Topman, and a pair of black ripped jeans with a rip so close to his thigh he was sure he would be unable to wear his normal pants. He also found a pair of socks for Phil that were maroon with little æ symbols all over them. It had felt so good to finally be shopping for the both of them again.

Finally, he took to cleaning. This by far had been the most neglected in Phil’s absence. Dan was not gross by any means, but he had allowed for clutter to pile up, and was now faced with the daunting task of organizing he and Phil’s mail, dusting almost the entirety of the flat, washing the linens, cleaning the kitchen, vacuuming, and removing things from Phil’s desk that he had all about claimed as his own in his absence. He finally cleaned the bathroom leaving the Phil’s lens pot on the tap where it had sat for 8 months. 

***

One of the women waiting with him looked over at him and smiled. She pulled up her phone out of her pocket and looked it over thoughtfully. 

“They’ve just landed.”

“Oh- Thank you,” Dan said wringing his fingers out.

“How long have you been waiting?” Dan looked back puzzled. He was never great with small talk especially when he was feeling so nervous. 

“Eight Months,” and then after a moment he thought to ask her,

“How about you?”

“Fourteen, but he was able to come home for a week back in May.”

‘Oh, I’m sorry. That must be really hard,” and that was when Dan looked at the little girl she had on her hip holding a teddy bear with a military outfit on. He really did feel bad. How could he even compare how he felt to her experience. She had waited so long, and this likely wasn’t her first time. And to think that she didn’t have the fortune of lying in bed when she was sad, she had a little girl with her, a sleepy expression on her little face. And then he looked around at everyone, and he just felt both happy and sad at the same time because their family members were finally coming home, but oh how long some of them must have waited.

“What does he do?”

“He was contracted. He is an interpreter of dead languages,” The smile she gave Dan was coy.

“He must be smart then,” She said with a wink.

“I think so,” Dan smiled back.

“My name is Mary-Anne by the way.”

“Dan.”

It wasn’t much longer until people started to file down the escalator. Phil had mentioned in an email that everyone else on the flight was allowed to exit the plane first and then they would exit to greet their families. Dan found this criminal at the time but was no feeling very thankful that there would be less people there to witness their reunion. He was feeling shy. 

The Uk had come extremely far in their acceptance of the LGBT community, but it didn’t mean that Dan wasn’t apprehensive. He and Phil had a long conversation before Phil had left about whether he would tell his coworkers about Dan or not. They had spent four years of their nine year relationship in the closet. Dan was at the time a big name in the London Wedding Photography scene, and he worried whether he would loose clients when he came out about his relationship. Eventually he changed directions in his career, becoming a social media representative for a few small companies and he felt comfortable to come out. It was an uncomfortable time for them. Phil hated being in the closet, but he also loved Dan, and that was enough for him to hang on and continue forward with a bit of a charade for four years. They never thought that five years later the tables would turn. Dan never once argued with Phil on his decision. Phil hated it, he was not ashamed of Dan and had never been, but he simply felt more comfortable keeping his relationship a secret until he returned back home. 

Phil found that most of the guys he was stationed with had many photos of their families and hung them up in the barracks. Dan had on occasion seen this too in the background of Phil’s screen through the crappy webcam. It did hurt Dan, not for his own sake, but for Phil’s. Before he left they went to a Photo Booth on a visit to Manchester City Centre and took four photos of the two of them. Phil folded them up and hid them in the back of his passport case. Late at night when he knew most people were asleep he would pull out that passport case, slip out his passport and find the photos hidden inside. He would study them over and over again sometimes smiling, sometimes as silent tears fell from his eyes and would clutch them close to his heart, knowing that Dan, though thousands of miles away, was right there in the palm of his hand, kissing his lips and Phil kissing his.

***

They formed two perfectly straight single file lines at the top of the escalators. Dan’s heart just about stopped. He couldn’t believe it. Philip Michael Lester was at the top of that escalator, in the very front on the left. He held his breath as he watched Phil, his Phil walk gracefully up and stand straight head forward feet exactly at the line where carpet met metal. The men on the right were all in military issue fatigue uniforms about 6 in a line. Phil led a small pack of three. All were in uniforms that looked almost identical only in solid colors. They had on dark tan trousers, and a light green t-shirt that seemed to fall loosely on Phil’s arms. 

Holy shit that was Phil. His Phil. He very much did not look like the same Phil. The first thing Dan noticed was his hair. His hair was so short. Dan had never seen it that short, not even when Phil had been in university. And the color! This was Phil’s natural hair color. His posture was so up and down, and Dan was surprised not actually knowing his back could get that straight from all the slouching he did over his books and his keyboard. Bloody hell he was tanned! Phil fucking Lester had a tan, albeit a little red, but it was there. Dan came back to his chest and arms. He was so thin. This was something Dan had not expected. He honestly expected Phil to be pretty fit. His sleeves hung away from his bicep instead of hugging it. He could see Phil’s collar bones. His waist was held tight by his belt. All of this made him look taller, and that height made him look almost frail. Dan continued to scan until he found Phil’s eyes. They were still beautiful. Still blue and green and gold, but they were hidden behind thick rimmed glasses and they looked tired. Dan wasn’t sure he had seen Phil this tired in his entire life.

Suddenly Dan did not want him standing there in formation anymore. He wanted to get this moving. He was feeling more anxious by the minute, but this time just to get to Phil and hold him. Couldn’t these people see that this man needed to be held? Couldn’t they see that he needed to get home? ‘You had him,’ Dan thought. ‘Give me back what is rightfully mine.’ 

All of a sudden a loud noise came in unison from the right in the form of the men all stomping. Dan’s gaze fell from Phil and onto the men. They raised their arm and then it fell swiftly to the side taking a step forward and making the same loud stomping noise. Then it was like a switch in them had been turned off and all of them relaxed. Dan looked back at Phil and thats when finally, after 8 months, Phil looked back at him and they were looking at each other, really looking at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who is reading. I have had so much fun writing this. It is my second ever fan fiction and my first chaptered fic. I don't know any more about the British Royal Military than what little I have researched online so please don't come for my wig.


	3. Guerre

Phil slowly stepped out onto the first step of the escalator. He didn’t take his eyes off Dan for a second. It honestly amazed Dan how effortless Phil’s movements had become. This was the same man who on numerous occasions almost fell down the stairs in their flat. Blessed be Phil’s grace though, because Dan wasn’t sure he could keep his eyes off Phil’s either. 

Nerves were bubbling up through Phil, spreading through his limbs. All of his nerves seem to be over firing. It honestly felt like a scarier version of the day they first met at Piccadilly Station ten years ago when he was only 21 and Dan was a mere 18. It was so intimate. In the back of his mind he couldn't help but think that his entire group was about to find out that he had a boyfriend, but he suppressed the thought. It’s over. It’s over. It’s over. It was a mantra that had began mid way down his decent and one he couldn't stop repeating in his mind. He was never going to leave Dan again. 

And then he was at the foot of the escalator waking towards Dan. Dan had rocked fully forward on to the balls of his feet now looking 6’6”, neither of them with smiles on their faces. All noise ceased around them. The cheers, the crying, the children, all of that went away. It was just intense, passioned staring as Phil took 4 quick strides and Dan took one. Phil threw his back pack on the floor, and then they were hugging. 

It wasn’t so much hugging as holding. Dan’s hands completely encircled Phil’s torso, Face buried deep in Phil’s neck. Phil’s arms were wrapped around the back of Dan’s head breathing warm air onto his cheek. They just stayed like that. No words. Most of the airport’s fluorescent lighting cut off by the others body, eyes closed. No talking, just breathing. Holding and touching, and finally feeling whole.

***

Dan was the first to snap back into awareness. He could feel Phil shaking against him. His breathing was jagged, tickling his cheek and ear. He slowly released his death grip to exchange it for tracing soothing circles on Phil’s back. 

“I missed you.” There was silence.

“Hey, try breathing with me okay.” Dan slowly drew in a breath and then released it. He drew another one in and released it repeating this again and again in the same way Phil had calmed him so many times. Phil slowly followed suite, twitching his fingers on the back of Dan’s head. He was beginning to wake up. 

“You are doing so good. Can you look at me?”

“Please don’t let go,” Phil whispered hastily. He sounded so worried, and this pained Dan.

“I just got you back, there is no way I am going to let you go now okay. I just want to see your beautiful eyes.” Slowly Phil released his grip to lower his arms around Dan’s shoulders and looked nervously into his eyes.

“Hello Philip,” Phil’ s lips twitched up the tiniest bit.

“Hello Daniel.”

“I am happy you are home.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” and then Dan pressed the smallest kiss to Phil’s forehead, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the day Phil left, and how different this Phil was to that Phil, and how different he was to that Dan.

***

They finally made their way to the baggage claim. Dan decided it was probably best to get Phil out of this crowded airport and back to their flat as quickly as possible.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. He played out this moment in his head many times. He imagined for Phil to treat him like a friend, walking up and hugging him like a lad with a quick pat to the back. He imagined Phil walking up, eyes blazing, and kissing Dan squarely on the mouth, picking him up in some feat of strength like in the movies. He imagined Phil running to him, the way he saw in so many youtube videos, where they would lock in an embrace, lips immediately connecting in a mess of tears. He imagined Phil introducing him to all of the guys he had just spent so much time with. saying things like ‘hey this is Dan the guy I haven’t shut up about,’ or ‘Hey this is Dan the guy I never mentioned.’ He imagined at least a wide smile, not only from Phil, but from him. He honestly thought he would be crying or smiling, or both. None of that happened though. It wasn’t like a movie. It wasn’t like a youtube video. It wasn’t even like Dan and Phil, and that is what was so surprising. 

***

Phil stood very close to Dan. His desire to grip the back of his shirt so as to not loose him in the crowd was incredible, but he knew it was a nice shirt, and he didn’t want to go wrinkling it under his grip. He couldn’t tell you why he was so nervous. He just knew that he didn’t want to loose Dan. So he walked hands balled into fists to keep from shaking.

They passed a woman who just stared. Normally when he was stared at it was because he was holding Dan’s hand, which to be honest he would stare at two tall men holding hands as well. Most people just looked at him, well them, with mild interest. This woman was not looking at them though, she was looking at him, and he wasn’t holding Dan’s hand. She didn’t look interested, she didn’t have that small smile people sometimes gave them, she didn’t even give him a look of disgust. That honestly would have been better. No, she looked him dead in the eyes and had fear written all over her face. Since when had he ever a day in his life looked like anything to be afraid of. 

It felt like it took them forever to find the baggage claim. Phil kept trying to remember the last time he had flown into Heathrow airport. He had gone to New York for a conference with Dan. They had spent 4 days there, 2 of them cooped up in a hotel conference room that Dan deemed stuffy. Dan always tried really hard to be interested in what Phil was studying at the moment, but he made it about an hour and a half into the first session of the conference before he was soundly sleeping on Phil’s shoulder. Phil told Dan that he could spend the rest of the conference in the hotel room working and the last day they spent driving around in Taxi cabs and looking very much like tourists. Phil remembered having a photo from that trip saved as his phone lock screen for months. It felt like that had happened years ago but the conference was only 6 months before he had left. Why did everything seem so far away? The conference, the baggage claim, and even Dan, who was not even an arms length away. 

***

They finally made it out of there with Phil’s bag, yes, one single bag. 

“How did I forget that you lived off one bag?” Dan asked trying to lighten the mood.

“I didn’t get the bag until I got there. When I left all I had was my backpack.” 

“You didn’t bring home any dust beetles did you?” Dan asked with mock concern. 

“No dust beetles. Just a lot of brown clothing,” Phil said with a smile.

This was nice. Phil was talking Dan thought. 

“Did you get a nice army jacket?” He asked now actually interested.

“I have two, though they are pretty dusty and probably smell bad. They were the only things that kept me from actually lighting on fire from the sun.”

“Oh okay,” Dan said shyly.

“Would you like one of my dusty, smelly, worn out jackets Daniel?” Phil laughed.

“Yes please! it would look so good with these pants, and I can wash it. Plus it takes a lot for you to smell Phil.”

“Trust me Dan it likely does not smell good. We didn’t have a very good wash set up, and I don’t think I have sweat more in my entire life. It is hard to smell when you sit on the couch all day with your lap top and some books and have access to a shower and a laundry machine every day, but if you want it, you can have it. Any clothing you want you can have. I have been dreaming of joggers since I left.”

“Everything is waiting for you at home, and I even have a few surprises.”  
***

Phil was finally able to stop shaking once they got in the car. They fell into comfortable silence again for the 30 minute car journey to their flat in the London burrow of Dollis Hill. They were lucky enough to find a pretty decently priced two bedroom disconnected flat in such a quiet area. They had lived there for about 3 years. 

Dan had rested his head on Phil’s shoulder after giving the address to their driver. Phil just looked out the window. He still couldn’t believe it. He watched as they passed by so many familiar things, things he never gave a second thought to before. Things like a BP, or all of the auto dealerships, or all of the greenery. He wanted to go up and pluck a leaf from one of the trees just to examine it. There were so many homes. People were walking around, women with babies, and active shops. There was water in a fountain, and live flowers in a garden outside a small flat. He also thought of all the things there were not. No loud noises, just the humming of the car engine. There was no rubble. Every building was built. Every street was well paved. All of the doors and windows had their glass in it’s proper place. There were no dirty tarps blowing off the side of exposed buildings acting as new walls. No piles of trash on the side of the road, or large cement piping, or the faintest hint of war. Before he knew it he was passing St. Gabriel’s church, the last land mark before they would be pulling up to their home. Their home. 

“I’m home,” Phil whispered.

“What?” Dan asked in a deep voice. He had dozed off on Phil’s arm.

“Nothing, just thinking aloud,” and then he kissed the top of his head because he could do that now. No more late night glimpses in the dark of a photo booth photograph. No more grainy web cam. No more hiding. And that was when Phil grabbed Dan by the chin forgetting all of his personal insecurities for a moment and kissed him on the mouth for the first time, long and hard, because he was back, and he was done, and he was never going to do something like that ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted this to be a long chapter but I was just all over the place in deciding where I want this to go. I also have been doing a lot of research for each chapter as well as using google street view to my advantage. I found their FICTIONAL flat online and am having quite the time mapping out their little world.


	4. cogadh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some moments that could be triggering to those who have PTSD or Anxiety. I just care about you so read with caution.

When he walked into their flat he could smell it. It was a smell very familiar, but one you could only smell when you had been away for a long time. He was now able to smell what others smelled when they walked into his home. Home. He was home. Everything looked oddly the same except for a few items Dan must have picked up. He had bought a new candle that was sat on the coffee table. Phil couldn’t help but smile as it was one of those expensive candles that were about £20 for a 120ml tin with about 8 hours of burn time. He couldn’t help but think how they used to argue over such silly things. 

He thought back to the memory in the shop.

— - —

“Dan really? It is £20 for that tiny one. This one is £7 and 250ml and smells like birchwood. That cannot be that different from sandalwood escape.” Phil knew very well that the two smells were in fact different, but he had been in a hurry to get food, and Dan was a browser at the worst of times. 

“Phil, you know they are different.”

“In price and size yes!”

“Fine! But next time we are splurging because I already know the smell on this candle is going to be weaker than the smell off this one.” 

— - —

Turns out Dan had in fact been right about the candle. It barely produced a smell strong enough to fill the lounge, and Phil didn't live it down for weeks. He was happy to see that Dan had gone and got the candle he wanted. 

He walked over to it and picked it up turning it over in his hands, the label read Sandalwood Escape in simple gold lettering and it had a wooden lid.

“Sandalwood Escape,” Phil said with a smile.

“Sandalwood Escape,” Dan just gave him a cheeky grin, “You remembered.” 

“Yes, I am happy you bought it. Is it any good?”

“Phil it is the best our home’s ever smelled! That is my fourth candle.”

“Dan! That is so much money!” He just laughed though. He really didn’t care. He removed the lid and smelled the tin.  
“It really is nice isn’t it?”

“Come on there is more!” Dan was fully awake now and he grasped Phil’s hand and lead him through the flat. 

Phil observed that Dan had bought him flowers that were on the kitchen counter in a vase. In the Kitchen, every storage container on the counter was full of cereal. There was a fresh bag of coffee beans and what looked like an expensive tin of English tea. There were biscuits, and chocolates, and even a bottle of wine. He opened the pantry to show that it was full of more food.

“Dan this is so nice,” he said almost in a whisper.

“What have you missed the most? I promise I have it,” Dan said with a smile.

Phil thought for a moment. He had missed a lot of things. He missed crumpets. He knew that was probably a big English cliche, but he would sometimes be stuck out in the heat all day working, and he would be trying to think of just about anything else, so he would think back to Dan. He would think of a rainy London day in November, and he would think of warming a crumpet in the toaster and making coffee for he and Dan, and lying on the couch under the same blanket. 

It was a vision he had created, not a memory he was trying to draw back up. It was more fun that way. He could make it as cozy as he wanted. They would sometimes be watching TV under their shared blanket. Sometimes they would be talking about their day. Sometimes, They would be sat there in silence sipping their coffee. Sometimes they would be kissing and their coffee and food would be abandoned for other activities. It always started the same way though. He would put a crumpet in the toaster, he would make coffee, and then he would get under the same blanket as Dan.

“You,” was all Phil said. Because in thinking back on his vision the most important thing was Dan. In saying that, it wasn’t meant to be romantic. It was more of a plea. He loved London, and crumpets, and candles, and flowers, and the smell of his home, and part of him was so close to breaking down and laying on the very carpet of their lounge, but he wanted Dan. 

It was like something broke in both of them. This wall of formalities, all the light teasing, dancing around one another like terrified adolescents, everything screaming careful, careful, careful. Suddenly, everything shifted and the world began saying go, go, go. 

The next thing he knew he had dropped his bag making a thumping noise on the tile floor, and then he had a mouth, wet and hot, on his. His hands went first to either side of Dan’s face. He was able to run his hands through the sides of Dan's hair again, and taste him, and feel his eyelashes on his cheek. And then he was quickly being pushed back against the counter. It was all happening so quickly, and his hands moved from Dan’s face to rest one on his hip and one on the back of his neck. Gosh he fucking missed this. He had thought about it, everyone had thought about it, but thinking about it and actually doing it were two very different things. It never ceased to amaze him how well they fit together, how easily their hips slot together. Dan’s nails were dull as they ran down his back. Phil was greedy taking what he could from Dan’s mouth, pulling him in closer. Dan moved to kiss the corner of his mouth and then his jaw, moving to press a line of kisses to the shell of his ear. 

“I missed you too,” He whispered so quietly, as if speaking would shatter this perfect moment, and then he was at his neck again, and warm hands were sliding up the front of Phil’s shirt in silent permission for removal. He lifted his arms as Dan pulled up and removed it and moved to suck at his collar bone. 

Phil began his attempt at the buttons on Dan’s shirt with shaking fingers. He hadn’t realized he was. His breathing was coming out uneven and overwhelmed as well. It was so bad he wasn’t sure he would be able to get the first one undone, and suddenly Dan was lightly placing his hands atop Phil’s, while looking him in the eye.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know why I’m shaking,” Phil chuckled trying to not sound worried. 

“We don’t have to-“

“I want to. Please.”

“Okay,” Dan said smiling at him and ran a hand through the side of Phil’s hair.

Suddenly Dan’s lips were on his again, this time much slower and he guided Phil’s fingers with his buttons, finally shrugging off his shirt. He kissed softly at his jaw one more time, then at the mark he had began making at his collar bone, then down the side of Phil’s ribs that were ticklish as he got down on his knees. He sucked a mark into one of his hip bones that had become much more prominent as he undid his trousers. 

Phil ran a shaky hand through Dan’s hair. He was feeling self conscious. He still wasn’t sure why he was shaking. He was overwhelmed. He was finding it hard to breathe normally as Dan finally took him in his mouth, working him over. He leaned back on his elbows lifting his head back. He felt conflicted. He felt good, but he also felt like he couldn’t breathe and time seemed suspended. 

He let out a choked sob and that’s when Dan stood back up. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew Phil was having a hard time breathing. He could feel his hand shaking as he tried to run his fingers through Dan’s hair. Had this been months ago he would have thought he was doing a mind blowing job, but something was wrong, these weren't his normal noises, weren't his normal movements, and this needed to stop. He put a hand on Phil’s face and pulled him in to look at him and he saw the tears in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” He knew it was a dumb question but he didn’t know what to say.

“I d-don’t know wh-what’s wrong.”

Dan wasn’t used to this. He was used to being the one with anxiety. He was the one who would stay up late pacing their office and Phil would follow behind him until he would take Dan in his arms and help talk him through whatever the situation was. He was the one who would sometimes have to work from home because he would feel anxious about going out and Phil would make up an excuse saying he had a lot to transcribe all of a sudden an didn’t need to go to his University office that day. He would suddenly feel a need to tidy, and Phil would be the one to jokingly pull important documents out of the bin he had thrown away in order to clean a space quickly. Phil was the strong one, not Dan.

“It’s going to be okay,” he pulled him into his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say so he just started talking. “How about we take a bath together. I am sure you’re tired yeah? And we can relax. I spent more frivolous money on different kinds of bath bombs, about £15 in fact. I know you probably haven’t had a good bath in some time. And then I can make you some tea and we can relax. We have all the time now okay? I love you. Can you try breathing with me again?  
Phil felt like his mind had melted off somewhere. It was a foggy sort of feeling. His ears became muffled and his chest became tight and it was like someone was turning the lights on and off in his head. He could make out the fact that Dan was speaking to him, even made out most of the words, but he wasn’t able to respond quite yet. He picked out the first thing he felt, Dan’s chest on his, was it real? Yes it was real. He was here, Dan was here, the air flicking across his face was Dan’s breath, the warmth around him was Dan’s arms, and slowly he was able to pick out the reality of where he was and breathe at the same time Dan breathed and then finally he spoke.

“Okay.”

***

They eventually made it to the bath. Phil had sat looking far off on the closed toilet lid while Dan prepared the water. Dan had helped Phil undress, and where there was once sexually charged feelings were now kind and gentle touches as to not scare Phil. Once they had finally settled Phil was sat in front of Dan while Dan just combed wet fingers through his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Phil said quietly.

“Why are you sorry? there is no nothing to be sorry for.”

“I have been away for so long and I couldn’t even properly be with you. I don’t know why I freaked out. You did so many nice things for me and I couldn’t even properly enjoy them,” Phil leaned his cheek into Dan’s chest.

“Phil I love you. I missed you more than you can know. There were so many things I missed about you. I missed your voice. I missed the way your glasses fall down when you are reading some article with words I couldn’t begin to comprehend. I missed the way you smell. I realized one night about 3 months in to you being gone that your pillow had stopped smelling like you. I broke down Phil. I cried into your pillow because your pillow was the last thing I had to hold on to. I didn’t sleep well for a week after that. And then I realized that your shirts still smell like you. So I started grabbing shirts from the closet and putting them on the pillow, and pillow Phil gave me something to hang on to when real Phil was gone. And yes I have missed being intimate with you because I love that, but this right here means much more to me at the moment than that because real phil is right in front of me, and tonight when I go to sleep real Phil will be in bed with me, and when I wake up real Phil will be there too,” Dan said and then kissed Phil’s hair. 

“Thank you, I am happy real Dan is here too.”

***

They spent the rest of the day watching TV in the lounge cuddled under the same blanket, and though Phil didn’t make it himself, Dan made him a crumpet. It also happened to rain, and eventually they were able to abandon their plates and pick up where they had left off, and Phil was much more relaxed. Dan would never admit it to Phil but he was pretty nervous to try something again, but everything was slow and lazy and exactly like what Phil had visioned. 

That night Phil was exhausted and they had curled up together and it didn’t take long for them to both be peacefully asleep. It finally felt to Dan like everything was in it's proper place, and he was able to fully relax for the first time in what felt like forever. That was why it was a shock when Dan was awoke at 3am to Phil's whimpers whilst he thrashed about in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been going through some personal anxiety so writing got put on the back burner. I hope you like it. Cliff hanger who? I don't know her.


	5. война

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has eludes to graphic depictions of violence and death. It also includes depictions of triggers for PTSD. If you are someone who struggles with these topics please do not read or read with caution. I care about you.

It was all fuzzy. He was pleading with the man.

_“Please! Please just tell me! You need to tell me! I don’t want them to hurt them or your family but they will hurt you if you don’t tell me.”_

_“I can’t tell you! Don’t you understand you dumb white man! I cannot! I would rather die than let what will happen, happen to my family!”_

“Lester what is he saying!” His commander yelled at him.

“PLEASE DON’T RUSH ME!” He knew he shouldn’t have yelled back but he needed to defuse this situation. He felt like this man’s whole life was in his hands. He knew that he was damned either way. He would either tell the truth and end up in prison, or not tell the truth and end up in prison. If he told the truth and his people found out his whole family could be tortured and killed. Phil knew he would continue to have to come into this interrogation room, just like he had the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. He couldn’t let this man’s family be in trouble, but he also had a job to do. He felt like he was in Milligram’s experiment.

_“Please just tell me. What if I ask them to protect your family? They may not do it, but if we can protect your family, will you tell us?”_

_“How can I trust you will protect my family? No one will protect anyone! You can trust no one! No one you love will make it out alive!”_

And suddenly there was Dan, strapped to a chair in the same way, cuffed from behind. A man had his hands in his hair grabbing dangerously tight like he might rip out the locks and he had a knife at Dan’s throat. How could that be? Dan was in England. Dan was supposed to be safe in their flat in England.

_“No! No no no no! I will do anything!,”_ And suddenly the prisoner was free and Phil was kneeling at his feet and his eyes were locked with Dan’s just as the knife…

***

Dan couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was speaking his language and he couldn’t understand what was tormenting him. He felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He knew Phil had night terrors as a child. He had never had them in their entire time of knowing one another though. Martyn had become comfortable enough to joke about them, but admitted at the time they had been pretty traumatizing. Martyn. He needed to call Martyn.

He and Dan were very close. He was like a brother to him and Phil had always got along with him exceptionally well for siblings. Dan would often ask for help with some of his design projects because he liked Martyn’s eye for things and they'd spend family holidays together, and they went on double dates with he and his wife Cornelia, and it all worked out quite well. So Dan did the only thing he could think to do. He knew he was not supposed to wake Phil. He knew that would only leave him feeling more disoriented. He grabbed his cell and phoned Martyn, he just hoped he would be up at half three.

The Phone rang, and rang, and by the fourth ring Dan was loosing hope that he would answer.

“eh, mate why are you calling me at three in the blinking morning Dan,” He croaked out.

“Martyn it’s Phil.” At this point Martyn could hear Phil through the phone. “Martyn he is having a night terror and I don't know what to do, and I need your help, he has been so off since he has been home and I don’t know what to do Martyn.” Dan was properly crying now, and Martyn was fully awake.

“Dan don’t try to wake him up! You need to let him be. Try to make sure he doesn’t leave the room. Get up and close the door, but other than that you just have to wait it out. They don’t last that long. He might not remember Dan. That is the insane part. He might wake up in the morning and be confused by why your so worried about him. We had to convince him that he was screaming in his sleep until one morning he went into mum’s room crying because he remembered his nightmare,” Martyn said matter-of-factly.

Dan was having a hard time breathing, but he busied himself with the door, and closed their closet door for good measure. Phil had quieted down from an 8 to about a 4 but the broken sobs that were now wracking his body were all but killing Dan.

“He is sobbing Martyn,” Dan cried into the phone. He felt so weak. This was his husband. He should know how to help him, but it was all so out of character for him.

“Dan I am on my way but it will be about 20 minutes until I get there yeah? I expect a cup of tea, 2 sugars a splash of cream. It better be there when I get there,” Martyn ordered but there was no bite to it.

“Martyn, I, I can’t leave, I can’t-“

“Dan he won’t wake up, I promise. You can’t wake him, I can’t wake him, he is stuck. two sugars, splash of cream. You have 17 minutes now, I am leaving the flat, and you need to make yourself a cup because we both know your not going back to sleep until he wakes up mate.”

“Yeah, yeah okay fine,” He said incredulously. He didn’t want to leave Phil but he wasn’t sure he could listen to him sob and not be able to comfort him. He didn’t want his touch to make his dream worse because he had no idea what hell he was dreaming about.

***

By the time Martyn arrived Dan had two cups of Yorkshire tea in front of him, one with two sugars and a splash of cream. He had walked up and down the flat stairs approximately 5 times to check on Phil and the last time tears were only softly falling from his face and his muscles had finally relaxed some that he hadn’t looked like a wounded animal but more like a man. He wished he could plant flowers in Phil’s mind. It sounded so silly, but that was the silly kinds of thoughts you had when it was 4 in the morning and your husband was just sobbing and screaming in their sleep and you're tired and afraid. You imagine anything. You grab on to any hope. So Dan stared blankly at his cup of tea with tears of his own imagining the kinds of flowers he would plant in Phil’s head to heal all the thistles that had nestled so deeply within the recesses therein.

“Thank you,” Dan looked up startled.

“For what?”

“The tea you knob,” Martyn said gently.

“Yeah no problem,” He replied emptily.

“He is going to be okay Dan.” They were quiet for a few moments. Martyn sipped his tea, and when he placed it back on the table Dan surprised him with a hug. He didn’t hug Martyn a whole lot. The Lesters were more affectionate than his family but they were still English.

“What if he’s not? What if I can’t help him? What if I am not strong enough?” Dan whispered. Martyn pulled away.

“Dan you need to give yourself a lot more credit. My brother is great, and I am so happy you love him, and I want you to continue to love him for the rest of your life, but you idolize him so much. Phil needs you just as much as you need him, and has always needed you. He would be lost without you, and I am sure that he has felt incredibly lost without you. He has to figure out who he is again now that he has you back again. If I tell you something you can’t tell Phil okay,” He said very serious.

“Martyn you know if it is too big I have to tell him,” He said wishing he could just say yes because while he really wanted to know, he couldn’t hold anything from Phil.

“It is not big.”

“Okay.”

“I think that Phil was a right git for leaving you. I don’t think he wanted to go as much as he said he wanted to go, I think he was scared to tell the queen no. To be honest I probably would have done the same thing, but that doesn't mean I didn’t worry about him. None of us wanted him to go, not me, not mum, not dad, not Cornelia, not even you. I know he hurt you. You have him back now though and he obviously needs you. In the end Phil right now is the same scared kid he was when me and him shared a room, but now he has been told that he isn’t allowed to be scared.”

“What if I need him Martyn?” Dan said sadly.

“He is still Phil. He just needs reminding, and he needs someone to tell him that it’s okay to be himself again, who we both know is an incredibly sensitive person,” Martyn said tapping Dan’s shoulder.

“Thank you Martyn. I should probably go check on him again. If he is feeling up to it maybe we can meet up tomorrow, well, I guess today actually. I feel bad, I know you haven't even seen him,” he said sheepishly.

“Yeah that would be nice. You need some sleep though. So maybe dinner. I brought a bag, I will stay in the guest for the night and leave in the morning, I already told Cornelia about what was going on. she was ready to rush over here as well, but she has some business to do tomorrow at the shop so I told her to get some rest,” he said grabbing his bag.

“Thanks again Martyn. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You would do just fine, just laugh a lot less,” He winked and went to the spare room.

***

Dan was nervous to go upstairs, but he knew he needed to. He needed to check on Phil again. He needed to be there for Phil.

When he padded in Phil was still deep asleep. The tears had stopped falling from his eyes. Dan went and grabbed a tissue from the bathroom and gently wiped his face and nose as to not wake him. He was a bit of a mess. He was Dan’s mess. He finally laid back down in bed and laid as close as he could and very tentatively ran his fingers through his hair. ginger brown hair, it made him smile. He knew Phil would probably dye it black again by the end of the week, but for now he could look at him and take it in. The truth was he loved all versions of Phil. He loved long haired Uni Phil. He loved graphic tee, hightop Vans Phil. He loved Plaid button down every day Phil. He loved space coat Phil. He loved short shaved sides long fringe Phil, yeah he really liked that Phil. He loved this one too. Cute little wrinkles by his eyes that were barely there. He loved this short haircut that Phil would have never picked out for himself. He loved his tanned skin that he didn’t actually know was a possibility. He loved his light eyebrows that were now relaxed and his eyelashes and his nose. All the freckles that had bloomed on his shoulders and nose and arms. He had to admit though that he was so excited to see the next Phil, because this was sad Phil. So many things must have happened that Dan didn’t know about. Phil had never been older but he never looked so young, so scared, or so tired. Dan just hoped he could help this Phil transition to the next Phil.

***

Dan never peacefully fell asleep. He woke up every hour to check on Phil. At 7 he eventually just woke up and made a pot of coffee. He knew Martyn would be up in an hour or so, so he made enough for two.

He brought the coffee back up to his room and began scrolling the internet on his phone. He turned to wikipedia. He typed in night terrors. While it explained a lot of the symptoms, it didn’t give Dan all the information he wanted. He hesitated for a long time fingers braced above the keyboard. He typed in night terror war veteran . Was that what Phil was now? Was Phil Lester, a sweet, kind, sensitive, Phil Lester a war veteran? Dan had one family member in the military and that was his paternal grandfather. When he thought military he thought his grandfather. He thought of someone who swore a lot, and drank Guinness by the pint, and had a tattoo on the top of their forearm of an anchor, or a sparrow, or some other tough guy thing. Phil was strong, much stronger Physically than Dan at times. He could pick Dan up, he could reach the top cupboard, he opened doors for women. Phil also drank martinis, and cried at dog videos, and ran the softest hands through Dan’s own hair, and was married to a man. He worked in a Uni office, and still wore a lot of plaid. Dan honestly thought Phil spent most of his time in an office in the dessert looking at old manuscripts and talking to villagers. Dan knew he was missing something big. He didn’t watch the BBC. He couldn’t. He was too scared that he would hear something terrible happened to Phil, so he on very rare occasions would look it over or ask Martyn to keep up with current events. So when his search lead him to a story of a veteran who had night terrors for 20 years, he got 2 paragraphs in and had to stop reading. Was this going to happen to Phil? Wikipedia said it lasted from your 20’s to 30’s in adults. Phil wouldn’t have this forever then, right?

He was shaken from his thoughts by Phil stretching, and an ungodly cracking coming from his body somewhere.

“What was that?” Dan whispered just in case Phil was still asleep.

“Meh back. Happens every now and then.”

“Are you okay?” Dan asked carefully.

“Great, my body hurts, probably from our activities,” Phil wiggled his eyebrows. _He actually doesn’t fucking remember_ Dan thought. “Dan what is wrong?” He asked bringing his hand up to his jaw. How was he supposed to tell him, _oh yeah by the way your older brother is down stairs asleep because you were screaming and sobbing in your sleep last night._

“Do you remember dreaming last night?” he started.

“I feel tired enough, but I don’t remember what it was about. Probably something weird like I normally dream,” He smiled smaller this time.

“Phil, you know how you had night terrors as a child and you and Martyn used to joke that you would probably start having them when we started sharing a bed because you're a terrible roommate-“

“Dan that was just a joke-“ Phil tried to say but Dan cut him off.

“Phil you had a night terror last night,” It was Dan’s turn to run his fingers through Phil’s hair. He moved to sit cross legged in front of him, Phil still on his side. He looked horrified. “You were shouting in your language and so I don’t know what it was about because I have no idea what you were saying. I was so scared I called Martyn and he is in the spare asleep right now. You were sobbing and so upset but I didn’t want to wake you because Martyn said not to, so he dropped by and talked with me and then eventually you just stopped. I think you are probably sore from being so tense for so long. I am sorry Phil,” He said sadly.

Phil didn’t know what to say. Martyn was here. His brother was in his flat in England, down stairs, and he should be running to wake him and say hello, but he was just embarrassed. He kept doing so many embarrassing things. His body kept reacting in ways he didn’t understand and now he couldn’t even remember the dream he was having. He hadn’t had a night terror since year 7. Those were about aliens and werewolves and home invasions. He had a feeling that was not what _this_ was about and he tried to remember but he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry Dan. I can’t remember,” he said shaking his head. “I am sorry I scared you. I don’t know why these things keep happening,” He just looked at his hands.

“Phil can I ask you a question?” Dan was nervous. He didn’t want to upset Phil especially since he had just woke up in such a good mood, but he needed to know more.

“Yes of course.” He looked up at Dan again.

“What was your job, your whole job? I know you were an interpreter. I know you couldn’t talk to me about it before, but there are no cameras, or laptops, or military. What were you interpreting? What were they saying? If it is too much right now that's okay, I just need to know eventually because I want to understand, because I don’t think I do right now.”

Phil didn’t know what to say. He worried about this a lot, because if he were honest he had to make decisions he never wanted to make. He was responsible for some things he never wanted to be responsible for, and he had to hide a lot more than he ever wanted to, or ever had from Dan. For a good portion of the deployment Phil felt like he was cheating on Dan. He wasn't actually cheating on him, it was just that the secrets he had to keep were becoming insurmountable and he knew the worry Dan would have for him would be too great. Even if Dan was prepared to hear what it was like for him, he wasn't allowed to tell. Most of what he was doing was a secret. Everything he said could be traced, or monitored by the government, or by the terrorists themselves. He had never felt more free than when he was able to take that uniform off. He sat up crosslegged just like Dan and faced him. He wasn't sure how to go about telling him so he decided to just go with the truth.

“Dan, I had to talk to people who were bad. I also had to try and get them to confess to those bad things. There were repercussions if they didn’t tell me and there were repercussions if they did. I had to make big decisions because I knew the language and these people didn’t. In 8 months I spoke to a teenage girl, a few different villagers, I translated written messages, I stood guard for another soldier over night with a gun strapped to my chest when I wasn’t supposed to, and I spoke to a terrorist every day for 3 months,” He wasn’t looking at Dan anymore but past Dan. He felt like he was in that same room again with the same man tied to a chair. “If he told me what he did his whole family would be tortured and killed and he would be sent to prison for a smaller sentence. If he didn’t tell us he would have still gone to prison. I had to interrogate him every day without fail for three months. Sometimes I would call you right after on Skype and that was why I would be so sad. He would yell at me and I would yell at him. He would be tied up in a room and they would scream at me to get answers but he wasn’t going to tell them, but they didn’t get that Dan, they didn’t get that! He wasn't going to murder the people he loved!” He said voice breaking and that was when he remembered his dream. He pressed his palms firmly in his eyes to try to black it out but he couldn’t. He could only see Dan tied to that chair.  
“No no no no no, don’t don’t don’t.” He whispered. He couldn’t feel the hands that were suddenly at his shoulders. He couldn’t hear Dan. He felt like he was in a tunnel.  
“Phil!” Dan said louder. He had been saying his name gently at first and then firmer. He grabbed at his wrist and pulled them from his eyes. “Phil you need to look at me!”  
“It is all so fuzzy, I don’t know what is wrong.” Dan realized Phil couldn’t see without his glasses and he had pressed his eyes so firmly into his palms that he was likely seeing spots. He grabbed his glasses from the end table and placed them on his face and then put his hands on Phil's cheeks bringing their faces so close together their noses were almost touching.

“Look at me, not through me, at me Phil. You are in Dollis Hill. You are with me. I am right here. Your brother Martyn is right down stairs. You never have to leave the United Kingdom again if you don't want to. You never have to go there again. You never have to leave me again. I am right here,” He said quietly but his voice was no less stern.  
“I remembered my dream Dan, I, I, I remembered-“ He couldn’t finish. He just hugged Dan because Dan was alive. He was fucking alive. He wasn’t bleeding out in that room. The awful room.

***

He wasn’t sure how long he was there with Dan but it had been a while. Eventually Dan had laid them down with Phil against his chest. Phil just listened to his heart beating. He could hear when Dan’s breathing evened out and he had fallen asleep. He wasn’t quite sure how long Dan had stayed up but he was sure it must have been half the night. Dan worried enough to have called Martyn.

He heard a soft knock at the door now cracked open.

“Come in,” Phil said.

“Hey Philly, Nice to see you again, I would hug you but you seem like you have your hands full.” he whispered with a giggle.

“Thanks for coming Mar. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what is going on,” He laid his head back down on Dan’s chest.

“It’s okay Phil,” He smiled. there was a pause and then “He loves you Phil. More than you realize. He is not going anywhere any time soon. I think he may rival mum. Don’t you ever bloody leave him again. Do you understand me Philip Lester?” He was smiling but Phil could tell he was serious.

“If you need anything phone me, when he wakes up make him a cup of coffee. Also were all having dinner tonight round mine at 7. Cornelia is making Swedish meatballs. Have a nice day in, I will see my way out.”

“Thanks Mar, Dan will be excited about dinner,” he said sleepily.

***

The rest of the morning went off without incident. He was able to sleep a little more and seeing as Dan was still fast asleep when he woke up he knew that he hadn’t had another night terror. He slinked away from Dan as carefully as possible to make breakfast for him. Dan really did buy everything. He still didn’t have much of an appetite but he thought he would make them an omelette and another pot of coffee. It was so nice to wake up and do these things. He loved doing things for Dan. He loved taking care of Dan. It was like a piece of him that had been missing was being put back into place and even if he was poorly at everything else taking care of Dan was something he knew he was good at.

As he worked he was finding it hard to keep the images of his dream out of his mind. It was different this time. He didn’t feel like he was going to slip into a black hole, but he saw them. When he closed his eyes for too long he saw it, Dan lied there dead on the floor. He would have to blink repetitively then continue chopping onions, switch on the kettle, grab the plates, every new task was followed with a succession of blinks. By the time he had the table set he was exhausted again.

Dan soon came padding down the stairs. There was something about having the vision of Dan dead in his head all morning that made seeing Dan alive incredibly comforting. He set his plate down and tried his best but failed at walking slowly over to Dan crushing him in an embrace.

“umph, good morning,” Dan smiled into his neck. He pulled back quickly. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I fell asleep, I-“

“I’m okay, Just nice to see you.” He grabbed Dan’s face and kissed him soft on the mouth and then his cheeks, and both eyelids, and the freckle on the right side of his face, and the rosie patch that had developed from all his kisses, and then he kissed him again and it was sweet and kind, and he just hoped Dan knew how thankful he was for him.

He finally pulled away slowly.

“I made us breakfast. Technically lunch at this point. I’m still not very hungry so I thought we could share an omelette and Martyn threatened me if I didn’t make you a cup of coffee,” Phil smiled.

“Martyn does like to order people around with their hot drinks doesn’t he?”

***

They were getting ready to go to Martyn and Cornelia’s and it was Phil’s first time to dress normally. So far he had just worn a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt, something he frankly could have worn while off duty.

“Dan I have no idea what to wear, actually no idea,” he said in mock defeat throwing his hands to the side.

“Phil, I have never been more excited to dress you up for a date at your brothers house.” Dan said laughing. He really loved dressing Phil, and this was going to be fun. He had Tan skin and brown ginger hair and it was probably going to be one of the only times he got to dress Phil with that particular combination. He knew he likely had exactly 24 hours until his hair was black. “I know you will be back to black very soon, I even bought you the dye already,” Phil cut him off then.

“Your just telling me this now!” Phil said throwing a pillow at him.

“Philll! we were busy, and I wanted one more day with my new tanned brown haired ginger boyfriend!” He looked over innocently blocking his body from the pillow Phil currently had in his hand.

“Are you replacing me with me Dan? Because I never said you could replace me with me. I thought you liked the Pale 30 year old emo boy you married,” Phil said pouting.

  
“I love him, but I have about 24 more hours with this Phil if I am lucky and he is sexy too, and I want to have my fun with him, and that starts by dressing him,” Dan said with a wink. “I may have something I got for you, and if you hate it I will wear it, but I think it will look great on ginger Phil, also it is going to make Martyn jealous.” Dan was shifting his weight back and fourth on his heals like an excited corgi. It was all too cute for Phil and so he ultimately agreed.

“Okay, okay. I will wear this mystery shirt if only to make Martyn jealous, with black jeans of course. I am still a pale emo boy at heart.”

“Deal!”

That was how Phil ended up in a button down shirt that he could only describe as a new-age Hawaiian shirt. Dan helped him button up his buttons and rolled up his sleeves and in the end he had black jeans on and white trainers and he felt pretty good. He Looked almost normal, and it was easier to pretend like he was normal with Dan’s hands on him and his uniforms packed away somewhere in the wardrobe, and with his contacts in.

Dan had on a black mink jumper with black ripped jeans and black trainers. He looked so good and his jumper was so soft. Phil couldn’t help but steal a few kisses from him and rub his hands up and down his arms, and he felt good. He felt normal, even if just for a moment.

“Can you do me a favor?” Phil asked nervously.

“Anything,” Dan said and kissed him on the nose.

“Can you just stay close to me tonight. The more I know your right here, the better I feel, and I just don’t want that to stop. Things are going so well right now and I don’t want that to end,” He said quietly.

“Yes, I want nothing more than to be right next to you Phil, I have missed your guts, literally the easiest request right now. I might have to leave you for a bit tonight thought for a rendezvous with my hot ginger boyfriend. He is just looking really fit and I might need some time with him later.” Dan winked cheekily.

“Daniel James Howell you are going to kill me,” Phil growled. He nipped at Dan’s neck eliciting a small squeak when his phone dinged, and Dan pulled away quickly and grabbed Phil’s coat.

“Car’s here,” And Phil just rolled his eyes at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my longest chapter and I feel like another one is right behind. I have the day off and then it is busy busy time for a week and then like 5 days off so expect an update possibly tomorrow, and then one in possibly a week? Also the next chapter will probably have some smut? And of course more angst but I like happy Dan and Phil just as much as you like happy Dan and Phil but a story is a story and the plot continues to thicken. I honestly don't have a solid ending in mind yet so I do not have a solid chapter set up yet. So look forward to at least a few more. I love this fic, but it is a little taxing to write and I find myself getting some writers block and it is kind my baby so I don't want to put out anything but the best. So thank you for baring with the fact I have zero schedule and being so kind always! The few who are consistent readers are what keep me writing this. XOXO
> 
> Also we love a Martyn Cameo, so you will be seeing more of him and Cornelia because I actually live for them on social media.


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